


Daedalus in the Maze

by Goldenrayofsunshine



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Child Abuse, Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Don't worry he gets better, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Not RPF, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pandora's Vault Prison, Parent Sam | Awesamdude, Post-Canon, Protective Cara | CaptainPuffy, Protective Sam | Awesamdude, Psychological Torture, Resurrection, Robonook, Sad, Sam Nook - Freeform, Sam Nook Angst, Sam Nook is a robot, Sam | Awesamdude-Centric, Self-Sacrifice, Temporary Character Death, The Dream SMP characters, Therapist Cara | CaptainPuffy, Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Warden Sam | Awesamdude, although that's fucking anything at this point, i have calmed down with the greek mythology references just a little, possible canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29823159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldenrayofsunshine/pseuds/Goldenrayofsunshine
Summary: The prisoner, an easy smile on his face, sits cross-legged between the limp bodies of boy and cat. Blood pouring from Tommy’s nose and eye sockets, his face deep purple.Sam is strangled by questions. He searches desperately for the answers: he interrogates each past visitor, paces loops around the prison grounds, tests the security measures. He can find no closure. Maybe his lost peace of mind is waiting in the last place he’s willing to look. So he checks the inside of the main cell.Blood on the walls, blood and torn skin seeping into the obsidian shell. Blond hair and bone. He’s carried Tommy out of this hell (too late), held him so gently in his arms and laid him down on a soft sheet under an open sky. But he hasn’t cleaned up the mess, choosing to leave Dream surrounded by his gore and horror.***Sam finds a way to make it right.
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Sam | Awesamdude, Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude, Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit
Comments: 40
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Predict canon, become powerful.

His breath is hot and wet under his gas mask. Sam coughs, and the ball of spit gets stuck in his tight throat. His goggles are waterlogged with undeserved tears. He has no right to feel anything but guilt and disgust. He knows what he’s done, what he let happen.

_ The prisoner, an easy smile on his face, sits cross-legged between the limp bodies of boy and cat. Blood pouring from Tommy’s nose and eye sockets, his face deep purple. _

Sam is strangled by questions.  He searches desperately for the answers: he interrogates each past visitor, paces loops around the prison grounds, tests the security measures. He can find no closure.  Maybe his lost peace of mind is waiting in the last place he’s willing to look. So he checks the inside of the main cell.

_ Blood on the walls, blood and torn skin seeping into the obsidian shell. Blond hair and bone. He’s carried Tommy out of this hell (too late), held him so gently in his arms and laid him down on a soft sheet under an open sky. But he hasn’t cleaned up the mess, choosing to leave Dream surrounded by his gore and horror. _

The man doesn’t seem to mind.

“You... _ you…”  _ Sam’s voice is weak but his resolve is strong. He clenches a fist in his black metal gauntlet and lets it speak for him, punching Dream hard in the stomach.

Dream rolls backward with the blow and  _ laughs. _ “Hello, Warden.”

“Don’t call me that.” He chose to be a warden instead of a human being. He chose protocol over compassion for a child. He grabs Dream’s left arm and bends it until the bone creaks.

“Okay, Sam.” He winces slightly in pain before the fucking smile returns. Sam confiscated his mask, but he might as well still have it, so precise is his control over his emotions. “Thank you for visiting me.”

Sam slams the back of his head into the sink. He won’t beat the prisoner to death, they might still need Dream alive. But he can make him feel nearly as much pain as Tommy felt, then heal him and do it again and again…  _ Is there any justice in the world at all? A kid is dead. His death was agonizing and brutal and violent.  _ “You weren’t gonna kill him.”

“He called me a liar.” Dream smiles. “I need him to know how powerful I am. I need him to be scared of me.”

“He’s  _ gone,”  _ says Sam, barely able to hold back the bile behind his teeth, “he’s fucking resting somewhere peaceful. You can’t terrorize him anymore. He was never scared- he won’t be scared of anything.”

“He begged me to stop.” Dream scratches at a red nail. “He wasn’t fighting back, he was cowering. He kept asking for you - right up until the very end he thought you would save him.”

_ Tommy begged?  _

_Tommy had begged the warden for his freedom in the last hour of his life, in a voice that was small and whispery and sounded so young._ _He’d told Sam not to be a fucking pussy._

His vision blurs, his face is flushed under its everpresent covering. He clings to his one remaining lifeline, cold logic. “I...I don’t understand. _What do you get out of this?_ In some sick way, you cared about him. He was all you had and you’ve _broken_ your _last_ _toy._ Nobody will forgive you now, nobody’s falling for your act. I won’t let you have visitors. This will be the last time you see another human being. You’ll rot here, pointless and irrelevant. _Why would you kill Tommy?”_

“To prove I’m in control.” Dream taps his fingers; some of the knuckles are crooked. “His life is in my hands. I choose when and how he dies, and whether or not he lives again.”

“The book.” Sam’s heart is full of ice. “You can bring him back. You could --  _ I  _ can make things right!”

“Maybe so.”

He feels heavy relief in every limb.  _ “Do it.  _ Put him back. I know you want to anyway. You won’t leave Tommy dead. You don’t want to admit it but you’re  _ attached  _ to him.”

“How sure are you, Sam?” He reaches out and snaps one lens of the copper-ringed goggles away from his warden’s face, releasing a collection of steamy tears. “That you can read me? That you know what I want, what I will or won’t resort to? Are you willing to bet Tommy’s life on it?  _ Again?” _

Sam feels unsteady. He leans over the lectern. His stomach churns and he vomits across the blank pages of an unfinished journal. “What do you _ want?” _

Dream puts on a mockingly small demeanor. “Just a friend.”

“I will never let you near him again.” Sam tightens his grip around the handle of his trident. “Giving Tommy back to you -- it would be kinder to let him stay dead.”

Dream nods. “Sam, I think you should find someone else to take over your job as Warden.”

That’s his plan already. He will. He’s failed. Failed to keep the innocent safe, failed to break down and confine the guilty. Someone else can take his place. Sam is finished. “What do you mean?”

“You know I’m not the only person who deserves to be in this prison.” Dream pokes at his chestplate. “You abandoned a child who loved and trusted you and he died horribly, surrounded by his greatest fears. You know how much he suffered. You promised to keep him safe, didn’t you, Sam? You signed a contract. We’ve seen how you feel about your obligations.”

“Don’t toy with me.” He steps forward, his voice low and quavering. Dream’s bare toes crunch under his boot. “Use the book. Name your fucking price.”

“Stay with me, Sam. Just like old times. We can be best friends again. You’ll do whatever I ask, ‘s long as I pay you, right?” Dream tosses a raw potato at his feet. 

_ He built the prison. Brick by brick, he constructed the labyrinth that will cage him for the bleak remainder of his life. All for a mound of valuables that now sits useless in an unreachable bank account.  _

“Yes,” he says, “For Tommy, I’ll do this.”

Dream almost vibrates with cruel excitement. “Take off your armor, then, Sam. You won’t need it in here.”

Hands shaking, he unstraps the heavy plate from his body and tosses it out of reach. Dream feeds it into the lava curtain, and the metal crumples as it’s sucked below the surface. He’s vulnerable now, fragile as he’d left Tommy in his final week. 

“Weapons next.” 

He surrenders his trident, his axe, and his sword, the  _ Warden’s Will.  _ It’s his last act as Warden: a choice he makes under coercion.

“And your mask.”

Sam shudders. “I don’t want to.” The gas mask is a part of him, protective but intimate at the same time. Removing it feels like pulling off his own skin.  _ For Tommy.  _ He rips it off and throws it into the molten rock. His first breath of unfiltered air tastes like pennies. There are sweaty red lines on his cheek, like the hinged jaw of a marionette.

“Fair is fair,” says Dream, “You and me. I get what I want.”

“Fuck you,” says Sam, “You bastard.”

Dream smiles. “Let’s talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After hours of theorizing, I present to you: my best guess for what will happen next on the Dream SMP.
> 
> We return to our regularly scheduled programming after I've calmed down a bit.
> 
> please leave comments please


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> designed to hurt you....it's so easy it feels like cheating.

Sam sits on a patch of sweltering obsidian. It’s wet underneath him, like dew on grass. He can smell blood in the back of his mouth. He stares hatefully at his new cellmate. “What did you  _ do _ to him?”

Dream laughs. “You already saw, didn’t you? Can’t you guess?”

“Tommy was beaten to death.” He feels diminished with horror. “You had him helpless, incapacitated, and you kept  _ hurting  _ him. Just to prove a point. You, you couldn’t stop yourself.”

“No. I could have easily stopped.”

“...I don’t understand.” He  _ knew  _ Dream. He’d known the man was never kind or gentle or soft, that he was proud and always scheming. But not this _cruel,_ deranged, detached. “What happened to you, man? How did you get like this?”

“Like what?”

“You _ don’t even…”  _ Sam can remember when there was no prison here, just miles of untouched coastline. As he'd laid foundation, he’d accepted the role of lead architect. He’d treated it as sacred duty, devoted every crevice of his brain to the single question of making a dungeon that would be inescapable. The man who’d employed him, he’d trusted. Now Dream thinks of himself as a God.  _ When, when did that change? _ “Oh. It’s the book.”

Power over life and death. Utter assurance that he’d be above consequences.  _ To make irrelevant the intrinsic value we place on the life of another human being.  _ “No wonder this is all just a game to you.”

“You get it now, don’t you?” Dream places a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what we did to Tommy. We can bring him back if we want to.”

He flinches away. “You beat him to death with your bare hands.”

Dream laughs dismissively. “We had a fight. He lost.”

“I don’t believe you.” His goggles pinch as his brow furrows. “It wasn’t a fight, it was a murder. You aren’t injured at all.”

“I don’t know,” says Dream, and he holds up his twisted fingers. The skin is torn, and the bones won’t heal right. “These are hurting pretty badly.”

_ Oh God, he can’t take this.  _ Sam’s not strong enough to spend his eternity trapped in a blood-soaked box with an unrepentant madman. He’s not  _ that kind  _ of brave. He’s, as Tommy would say, a pussy. “Just bring him back. Whatever you’re going to do to me, I need to know he’s out there somewhere, thriving. I want to think of him smiling, to know that he’s okay.”

“Oh, no, Sam, not yet.”

He whimpers, “no?”

“I don’t trust you yet, Sam.” He pets the man’s cheek. “I’m not sure you’re ready to be my friend, that you’ll stay here with me. I need to know that you’ll hold up your end of the bargain.”

Sam trembles with rage. “I swear on my life.”

Dream mimes turning a page. “What’s that worth these days?”

***

Captain Puffy used to think she was good with kids. Now of the four she knows, one is dead, another is spiraling, and a third is afraid of her. She’s the only person who seems to care. The fourth boy is trying to assassinate her. She’s not a  _ licensed  _ therapist, but that doesn’t mean she deserves to die.

Still, she’s alive, and that means she can learn, and improve her techniques. Today she’s going to practice on a robotic raccoon. She hops a chain link fence and climbs into the construction site, steeling herself for the task ahead of her. She’s in tears from Sam Nook’s first burble.

_ “Hello Captain Puffy. I am waiting for Tommyinnit.” _

“I--I’m sure you are.”

_ “Have you seen him anywhere? It has been several days since he left to gather oak logs.” _

She clutches the android’s broad burnished chest for support. “I have to tell you something, Sam Nook.”

_ “Please tell Tommyinnit that we need his services here at the hotel.” _

“Nook, he’s… oh God. Oh fuck.” She can’t say it. It was never supposed to be true. “Just follow me. I’ll show you.”

_ “I am instructed not to leave the construction site without permission.” _

“Please, Sam Nook.” She wipes her eyes. “I won’t tell anyone. Just a minute. For him.” She leads the robot to a gaudy clay statue. Tommy, happier than ever and larger than life.

_ “I am confused...That is not the real Tommyinnit.” _

“No it’s not. That’s because he’s fucking dead, Sam Nook.” Puffy doesn’t mean to yell, but she’s enraged. “He’s gone. We all failed him.”

_ “What is dead?”  _ warbles the robot. _ “Did I fail?” _

“It means he’s gone, and he’s not coming back. That he, he won’t work on his hotel again. He can’t fetch oak logs for you, or gather flowers. He can’t pay for upgrades or wear his safety vest.” She lays it out in simple terms that the AI can understand, and finds that it's helping to ground her. “Death is something that happens to everyone, eventually, but it’s not supposed to happen to kids.”

_ “Will I die?” _ the chirp is higher pitched, almost as if Sam Nook is scared.

“No, Nook… You’re not like us. You’re not alive the same way I am and Tommy was. At most you could get broken, and even then, Sam can come and fix you up again.”

_ “What about when Sam is gone?” _

“Then somebody else. The point is that you don’t die like people do. When we get hurt badly enough, we have to leave forever.”

The robot pauses for a long time, and Puffy can almost hear its circuitry whirr.  _ “Where is Tommyinnit, now that he left?” _

“I wish I knew. I wish I knew for sure.” She hopes it’s somewhere nice and safe and full of bright colors. “But we know he has his big brother there to look after him.”

Sam Nook warbles again.  _ “Can I go to where Tommy and his brother are?” _

“No,” she says quietly, “If it’s a real place, I, I don’t think it’s a place where robots can go, no matter how hard they try.”

_ “But it is my job to protect Tommyinnit.” _

Puffy sighs. “It was mine as well.” And she failed. She has no idea what to do next.

Sam Nook gazes down at her with the gleaming red cameras he has in place of eyes.  _ “Thank you, Captain Puffy. I will go back to waiting at the hotel now.” _

***

“Tommy talked about you a lot last week.” Dream chews on a raw potato, the skin catching in his teeth like paper. Sam isn’t hungry.

“...what did he say?”

“Well, he told me he hated you for trapping him with me, and that when he got out he would kill you. He also said you would come save him any minute. He said he would move into your basement at least on the weekends and eat your homemade pumpkin pie for breakfast.”

_ Pie. Pie for Tommy, as much as he wants, when he comes back. He can have Sam’s house. He can have the whole world. _

“I’ve noticed how much you talk about  _ him.” _

“I just think he’s interesting. Do you?”

“I think he deserved a lot better than what he got.”

Dream digs into the starchy vegetable with his dirty, untrimmed nails. “I like the way he talks when he’s nervous. He stutters. It’s like he’s trying to fill up space.”

Sam hates the reminder of his young friend’s timidness. Tommy’s panic, his fear, his bravado.  _ He won’t be the same. _ Doesn’t Dream understand this?  _ They can resurrect him, alive and unharmed, and yet he’ll still be the same boy who was left to die in this claustrophobic closet, who felt his skull shatter against the stone. _

Tommy doesn’t have to forgive him. That doesn’t matter. But it’s important he knows how much Sam cared about him. How much he still cares.  _ Enough to do this. Enough to play along.  _

There’s a clock on the wall, the very last clock. It isn’t burnt, but Dream has held it to the lava until it melted. It drips down the wall like a surrealist painting, the hands eternally frozen at just before midnight positions.  _ Why did he do that to himself, to his only link to the outside world?  _ He gestures to the frame. “It’s almost like art.”

Dream smiles. “Do you like it?”

“It’s something to look at.”

“Here, Sam,” says Dream, pressing up against his arm, “Let’s watch the clock together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you noticed that Dream's switch from Morally Gray to Manipulative Supervillain happens right after he acquires the resurrection book?
> 
> _not me doing character analysis on that green fucker_
> 
> i read and appreciate all comments


End file.
